TITLE:
AUTHOR: Lady Sirius
PAIRING: LM/NB
RATING: NC17
FEEDBACK: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling - I am simply toying with Lucius and Narcissa for my own purposes!
DEDICATION: I dedicate this work to the very sexy, very incredible Jason Isaacs, who is a veritable sex god in his own right, but when he wears that blonde wig - damn! And to all the Narcissas that play with and love my Luciuses... You make playing Lucius a pleasure indeed...
Pale Elegance
Chapter One - In Which the Awareness Level of an Unsuspecting Male is Raised
Lucius Malfoy hated Hogwarts with a vengeance.
He despised the school, and everything about it - most of all, he despised the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and thought he was the worst headmaster in the school's history. If only his father had gotten his way, Lucius would even now be at Durmstrang, actually learning the dark arts, not how to avoid them. But his mother had not wished her only child to be so far away, so mother love had prevailed over common sense. Although Lucius noted wryly to himself not in any other regard, as Abraxas still had his longstanding mistress. A tangled situation that was, and one he tried not to think about, even as he wondered was that the norm for pureblooded wizards and their marriages?
Lucius hated to study, and seldom bothered to do so. Not that he was stupid, far from it. He was a very intelligent young man, and actually a voracious reader - of what interested him, that is. Politics, history, certain pieces of literature... Most of the curriculum of the school he found boring beyond belief. He never appeared in the History of Magic class, but Binns never seemed to notice or care.
And late at night, when his fellow house mates were long asleep, he would make his silent way into the Common Room, for truth be told he had need for less sleep than others, and preferred to spend his time othewise - and he would sit before the fire reading into the wee hours of the night.
Lately, though, he had found himself not alone in his nocturnal pursuits. Another figure pursued a similar occupation, tucked up in a chair before the fire as well. One that took no notice of him, gave no indication that she had ever seen that he was there. Or that she cared one way or another.
He knew her, of course. She belonged to his House, obviously. And he knew everyone in his house. So how could he not know her? Her name was Narcissa. Narcissa Black. Of that ancient and venerable wizarding family. His family and hers long acquainted as well. He'd probably known her since childhood, paid her no heed, other than maybe pulling on her blonde braids now and then, in passing, calling her squirt, or some other inappropriate appellation as mischievous boys are wont to do.
But the braids were gone. The skirts had grown longer. And for some reason he had no desire to call her squirt, or anything similar. Narcissa Black was no child, far from it. She had grown into a fragrant young womanhood. And Lucius Malfoy found himself to be quite intrigued, in spite of himself.
He watched her surreptitiously, having learned to make the most of sidelong glances, peeking at her from beneath his long pale lashes, even as he pretended to take no notice of her. Thinking himself rather clever, too, until the night when she, shifting her position within her chair, tucking one foot beneath her, caught his eye with her own, holding it for a heartbeat - two heartbeats - three - a gentle smirk upon her lips - before returning her attention to her own tome, and Lucius was left to wonder how the temperature in the room had just suddenly risen.
The next night he gathered his courage, glancing boldly up from his book to find her unwavering gaze already fixed upon him. For a moment he found himself speechless - a rare condition with young Mr. Malfoy indeed - but he recovered quickly, even as he said, "What might you be reading tonight?"
"A book," she replied cheekily, before holding it up so that he could read the spine.
He tilted his head to see the title better. "Desiree," he read aloud, "what is it about?"
"It's an historical romance," Narcissa replied, "that takes place during the Napoleonic era. What are you reading, Mr. Malfoy?"
He smiled at her formality, but did not dispute it - long years of having manners instilled in him stood him in good stead. "I am re-reading The Prince, Miss Black," he replied.
"I have not read it," she admitted.
"Nor I yours..."
A moment of silence passed between them.
"I must admit that I am a fan of Napoleon's writing, as well as his campaigns. He had a most interesting mind," Lucius mused.
"He knew what he wanted and went after it, that makes him a bold man indeed," Narcissa agreed, shutting her book so that her finger held her place, as she listened to him speak. "I admired the way that he crowned himself Emperor, took the very crown from the Pope's hands and placed it upon his head. After all, he was a self-made man."
"That he was indeed," Lucius agreed animatedly, "very much so." He glowed as he began to expound on this, one of his favourite topics - so few people at Hogwarts appreciated this sort of talk. The only person he ever spoke to in such a way was Severus Snape. And yet, this lovely girl seemed to be hanging on his every word, drinking it all in with every evidence of interest. Without noticing what he did, he slid his own bookmark into place, and Machiavelli was relegated to the table, forgotten.
Some forty-five minutes passed in the course of this most pleasant occupation, which a sudden meow at Lucius' feet caught his attention. He glanced down to find his cat rubbing at his leg, looking up at him, as if to ask, why are you still up and not paying attention to me? "Oh my, how remiss of me," he said quickly, "here I've been rambling on and it must be getting quite late..." Which it was, of course, but he did not regret having stayed up talking to her in this fashion. Far from it. Osiris leapt up into his lap, demandingly, and gave Narcissa a curious glance, as if wondering what she was doing there.
Narcissa looked the cat in the eye, undaunted. "I think he is trying to tell you something," she said, amused. "And you haven't been rambling, I've quite enjoyed talking to you. But yes, I think I must go up to bed now."
Lucius rose from his seat, setting the annoyed cat upon his shoulder, where it perched and glared at Narcissa. Noting this, Lucius reprimanded him softly. "Behave...," before turning his attention back to the girl, as she too rose gracefully to her feet.
"Thank you for a very lovely evening," he said softly, bowing to her in a most gentlemanly fashion.
"Thank you," she countered, favoring him with a demure smile and a slight curtsey. "Good night, Mr. Malfoy, sleep well." She turned to go toward the girls' dorms, pausing just long enough for what she knew she would hear.
"Good night, Miss Black, and may all your dreams be lovely ones," he replied, watching as she continued along her way, before addressing his cat once more. "Come, to bed," he said, patting the mau gently, as he went his own way toward the boys' dorms. For some reason, he could not stop smiling.